Every endeavor worth undertaking involves some degree of risk. Risk is the presence of two conditions: the possibility of failure, and the loss of something of value in the case of that failure. Too often, I find myself engaging in activities that have no real risk associated with them. If I fail, I won't lose anything, except possibly the time involved in the activity; and this is no risk, because the time will be lost regardless of "success" or "failure" in the activity.
I'm resolved to begin selecting pursuits that involve risk. Because another aspect of un-risky activities is that they have little to no reward. It's foolish to spend my time in a no-risk activity—like watching television—when I could reap much greater rewards by sitting down to work on my novel.
And writing does involve risk. At least, it does if one wishes ever to get published. I've been working at this writing thing semi-seriously for over five years now. I have yet to receive anything other than rejection letters. Why? Is my work that bad, or does it just need some "refining"? Are there really that many more people in the world who are better at writing than I am?
Ivan Sutherland, noted computer scientist, said, "If you don't fail regularly you are not trying hard enough things." I appear to be failing regularly in writing, so I am either trying "hard enough things," or something that is too hard. How to tell? I tweeted a few weeks ago that it's difficult to determine the line between determination and self-delusion. Do I just need to try harder, or is my goal simply beyond my grasp?
How do we know what we're good at? Not what we like to do, but what we are able to do better than most other people? That's an entire blog entry in itself, and I'll revisit it later. For now, I'll just say that I haven't given up on writing. I'll keep trying. And I must keep pushing myself to risk more—only thereby can the greatest rewards be attained.
A ship in harbor is safe—but that is not what ships are built for. — John A. Shedd
Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat. — Theodore Roosevelt